


Fair and Square

by magicalyoyo



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: ALL OF IT, F/M, Fluff, LadyNoir - Freeform, Marichat, That's right, adrienette - Freeform, dun dun dun, it's the love square, ladrien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7470954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalyoyo/pseuds/magicalyoyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emotions are complicated, and relationships even more so.<br/>When secret identities and crushes collide, these poor kids have to buy a lot of anniversary presents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That's One Way To Deal With Nerves

**Author's Note:**

> **If anyone is still clicking on this:** As you can probably guess, this work has been abandoned. I still think what's left is pretty cool, though.

Adrien gasped as waves of dull pain reverberated through his skull, echoing the harsh _smack_ of the akuma’s weapon as it clipped the side of his head. Getting hit out of costume _hurt._ He ignored the tinny ring that filled his ears like a swarm of gnats, and desperately sought out the villain through the haze of angry black and red fog that suddenly coated the world.

_“GOOOAAAAL!”_

His knees buckled as the shout increased the wash of pain to a tidal wave, but Adrien managed to catch a glimpse of a blurry figure in a blue jersey before another black and white ball rocketed across the park towards a knot of terrified civilians several meters to his right. As Adrien stared, willing his body to run, to move, to do _something,_ the projectile split into two hazy forms that twisted and twined through the air...

… which were intercepted as a colorful figure coalesced from the haze and snatched the soccer balls from midair.

The akuma shrieked with rage, and the teenagers fled towards the relative safety of the street. Adrien tried to follow – _I have to transform, have to help Ladybug,_ he thought, trying to rouse his muscles to action – but instead staggered and tripped. He fell towards the grass, dimly realizing that he should catch himself, but his arms were as reluctant to move as his legs had been. The ground spun towards him and then rapidly receded as something slammed into his side. Adrien groaned at the jolt.

Had the akuma hit him again? Had –

His laborious thoughts stilled as Ladybug’s concerned face swam into his vision. _Two_ concerned Ladybug faces, actually. _Why were there -_ no, she was speaking, he had to pay attention. Adrien tried to focus his eyes on the left Ladybug, who looked a bit more solid.  
“… bleeding… think you might… concussion…” _Right, head injuries._

“’m fine, don worry,” he slurred, attempting to touch her shoulder reassuringly. His fingers met only air.

“Um, Adrien, I’m over here, are you sure you’re okay?” Small, strong hands steadied him as he turned towards her voice and the world began to spin again. Her blue eyes were bright with worry. She was so beautiful.

And she _knew his name._

“All good. Great! Never been better.” He wanted her to stay, but if she stayed, he couldn’t transform, and if he didn’t transform…

Ladybug jerked as a deafening cackle rung through the air.

“Shit. I- I’ve gotta go, Chat isn’t here yet. Can you call someone to come get you? We’re on a roof east of _Jardin des Tuileries._ ”

Adrien started to nod, but stopped with a wince and decided to opt for a smile instead.

She frowned, her glossy black hair glinting in the evening sun, and murmured, “I’ll check on you afterwards and make sure you got down okay.”

“Hey, Ladybug, wait.” The words were past his lips before his poor, beleaguered brain could stop them. _In for a penny, in for a pound,_ as the English said. “Want to get dinner tonight?”

She blushed.

 

* * *

 

“ _Bien joué!”_

The swarm of ladybugs swept over the city, righting trees and repairing shattered windows. Adrien sighed with relief as the pounding ache in his head softened before fading away. It had become tolerable as soon as he transformed, but even a tiny chaos god acting as magical painkillers couldn’t completely dull the concussion after the fifth time he’d been slammed into a building by the akuma’s soccer balls, which hit like sledgehammers even through the suit.

A quiet beep cut through the air as the last of his soreness melted away, and Ladybug cursed quietly.

“You go on ahead, I can take care of everything here,” Adrien called over his shoulder, as he crouched beside the puzzled victim.

“I said I’d check on Ad- on a civilian. He got hurt and I had to leave him on a roof.” She scowled at her yoyo.

 _Oh. Oh, right. That… that happened._ He fought to keep his expression under control.

“Hey, no problem, I can tell him you’ll be a few minutes. I’ve got time,” he replied. _Casual. Be cool. Don’t freak out._

Ladybug beamed at him. “Thanks, Chat. He’s over on the east side, right between the big fountain and the rose garden. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes. He could do this. Provided he didn’t implode. Or pass out.

Instead of curling up on the ground and screaming, which felt like the appropriate reaction to this situation, Adrien offered a hand to the bemused young man sitting on the grass, pulling him to his feet.

“Rooting for France?”

The brunet stared at him for a moment, his face pale. “Oh my god. You’re Chat Noir. Oh my god. I’m so, so sorry. I’m a Portugal fan but Fontaine said that if France won –“

The gush of apologies was interrupted as a tall figure with dreadlocks sprinted across the garden. His dark skin was ashen as he skidded to a halt. “René! René, are you all right? That was so _stupid_ of me, I shouldn’t have – I just panicked.”

The man – Fontaine, Adrien presumed – took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” he said, “I told you I’d go on a date with you if France won the game, but I’ve been trying to ask you out for _ages,_ and I… ”

Reporters were beginning to advance, brandishing microphones and cameras, and Adrien slipped away, allowing the couple to talk without interruption from newscasters.

 

* * *

 

A quick transformation in a conveniently placed bush and several minutes of sprinting wildly across the park later, Adrien leaned against a tree, trying to calm his pounding heart.

“Loverboy’s got a daaa-aaate,” crooned Plagg, poking his head out from a shirt pocket.

“Shhh, be quiet, she’ll be here any sec-“

The branches rustled and Ladybug dropped out of the leaves, landing lightly in front of him. Adrien choked on his words, an indignity compounded by the coughing fit that followed.

“Are you okay? Are you still hurt?” Ladybug was beside him, hands fluttering as if she was fighting the urge to grab his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he gasped, eyes watering, “I just… I swallowed a bug.”

He could feel Plagg snickering.


	2. Secrets and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Adrien try to navigate the complicated situation they've gotten themselves into and hope it doesn't fall apart under the weight of its own weight.

Marinette huffed with exasperation as she flicked her eyes back over the piles of clothing that covered the floor of her room.

It wasn’t like she could actually dress up. No matter how nice her outfit was, _anything_ became a bit of a fashion faux pas when layered over a red and black spotted bodysuit. Adrien would understand, even if he was the son of the top fashion designer in Paris, or maybe even the whole of Europe… Lost in thought, she turned over the blouse she was holding, crushing the delicate fabric between her (slightly sweaty) palms.

“Marineeeette!” trilled Tikki, “Stop worrying! Last week was fine, and tonight will be fine too.”

Marinette dropped the shirt onto her desk, hastily smoothing out the wrinkles. “This _Adrien,_ and I’m Ladybug, but I’m also _not,_ and – and,” she paused, catching her breath, “and you always know when I’m freaking out. Thanks, Tikki. But are you sure it’s okay to use the suit for this? Since I’m not fighting, or patrolling, or saving anyone.”

“Of course,” the kwami chirped, “I’d tell you if it wasn’t.”

“So I’m not going to lose my powers or turn purple for using the Miraculous for selfish purposes?”

Tikki giggled. “You’ve been reading too many of Alya’s comics, Marinette. Besides, being a superhero isn’t all about jumping over buildings and fighting villains.”

Breathing out, Marinette grabbed her satchel with new determination. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.”

A pile of fabric was unceremoniously stuffed into the bag, and then hurriedly removed, folded, and returned. After a moment’s thought, she added a scarf and sunglasses before flipping the bag shut and securing its large brass buckles, and collapsed onto her chaise with a sigh. Her phone buzzed, and Marinette tapped out a reply to Alya. Then she noticed the timestamp on her friend’s message.

“I’m going to be late!” she shrieked, “Tikki, transform me! _”_

Two minutes later, Ladybug crouched behind a conveniently placed hedge (it was amazing how much shrubbery there was to hide behind in Paris, once you had a reason to look for it) and reappeared, most of her distinctive suit shrouded from curious eyes, although the subtlety was ruined slightly as she pulled her yoyo out from underneath her navy peacoat. Marinette sprang over the imposing cast iron fence and up the side of the mansion. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself and rapped gently on the large glass panels.

Adrien jerked the window open before the echo of her last knock had faded. Ladybug slipped over the sill and into his cavernous room as he leaned back against the frame and ran a hand over his brilliant blond hair, which had been combed back into a soft wave, a style she’d never seen him wear before. His clothes were different, too – gone was the usual pairing of a fitted t-shirt and jeans. In their place, a silky gray dress shirt and black pants covered Adrien’s slim figure. He looked profoundly uncomfortable.

“Hey.” Adrien’s voice, normally so gentle, sounded deep and rough to Marinette’s ears. She looked closer; his skin was several shades paler than usual, except for a slightly blotchy, feverish flush that spread across his cheekbones and ears. That was odd. He’d seemed fine at school today, but –

“Hello. Uh, are you sick? I mean, I can come back another time if you don’t feel well,” she replied.

Adrien coughed, jerking upright. The blush deepened from pink to scarlet as he yelped, “No! No, I’m fine, I – I just had something in my throat!” His voice had gone back to normal.   
“Good. That’s good.” Marinette was lost for words - a normal state of affairs when she talked to Adrien, but completely out of character for Ladybug.

“So,” the model stammered, running his hands through his hair again, “I like your outfit.”

She smoothed the front of her jacket to keep her hands from shaking. “Er, thanks. I thought… well, you said you didn’t have much privacy, so I thought it would be better if I – if someone didn’t open the door and see, you know, Ladybug.”

“That’s brilliant,” he breathed, his green eyes sparkling. “And really, it looks great.”

It was Marinette’s turn to blush.

Conversation stalled for a moment as the two teenagers mentally scrabbled for more words. Their previous meetings, consisting of several evening slotted in between homework and patrol, had quickly fallen into a pattern: Adrien slipped out of his house (she had asked once asked how, and was answered only with a sly grin and a sparkle of his eyes) and met her in a dark corner of the park. Twice, they had ordered dinner from a late-night restaurant several streets away, and Marinette only remembered to hide in shadows at the last moment to avoid starting some _very_ popular rumors.

This, however, was their first time meeting in a personal location, aside from akuma attacks. Her house, obviously, was not an option, and Adrien had been wary of intrusion. Finally, Gabriel Agreste flew off to Berlin for a weekend, assistant in tow, leaving his son under the slightly-less-watchful eyes of the housekeeper and head of security.

After a few seconds, Adrien’s eyes flicked back to hers, and he smirked. Marinette’s knees felt wobbly.

“How do you feel about video games? Think your luck will hold?”

Her heart fluttered as she retorted, “I don’t need luck for that.”

She winked. He tripped on thin air.

“We’ll see about that, Miss Fortune.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, they were both sweaty and panting. Ladybug’s scarf and hat lay discarded on the carpet as they leaned forward intently.

“Left in the _dust!”_ crowed Adrien, performing an energetic victory dance as Marinette screeched in dismay.

“You don’t have to celebrate _every time,_ ” she replied with a pout.

“ _You_ do,” he grinned, still twirling playfully, and added, “But if I’m not mistaken, that makes it a tie.”

Marinette tallied up the matches in her head. It was true. He’d obviously been practicing since they’d trained together for the Mecha Strike tournament. Her father would give Adrien an entire bag of éclairs when he found out she’d lost not just one match, but half of them, while laughing about how Marinette had finally found an equal – except, she recalled dismally, Tom Dupain-Cheng would never hear about it. No one would hear about it, not her parents, not Alya, not Nino… neither she nor Adrien could tell anyone, because of this _stupid_ costume. Which, she noted, was the only thing that made him ask her to dinner in the first place. A bodysuit, a concussion, and a city’s worth of secrets, resulting in a – could it even be called a relationship? - … a _something_ that she couldn’t even mention to Adrien unless she it was from behind a mask. Her cheerful mood evaporated.

Adrien, apparently noticing her crestfallen expression, stopped dancing and plopped down onto the sofa next to her.

“Is everything okay?”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “It’s fine.”

He touched her elbow gently, and she couldn’t help but realize that it was the first time they’d touched intentionally since she’d rescued him from Le Arbitre and his deadly soccer balls.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I… Well, no, I guess – “ Adrien’s face was tight, apprehensive, and her chest tightened as she continued, “I feel bad about – about _this._ I really like you, I like spending time with you, but… I can’t help thinking that I’m lying about you. To you.”

“Lying?” Adrien’s voice trembled slightly as he forced the syllables between his lips.

“It’s not fair to you, having to keep everything a secret, and not even getting the full truth yourself.” Marinette swallowed, steeling herself. “For all you know, I- I could be someone you know, but I can’t tell you who I am, and we can’t even be seen together, because that could put both of us - and our families – in danger.”

Marinette pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted this to last forever – _god,_ did she want it – but it wasn’t worth hurting Adrien. Using him, manipulating him. Acrid bile, tasting of guilt and heartbreak, rose in her throat, and her eyes prickled with hot tears that she refused to let fall.

“Hey.” His voice was quiet, gentle. “Hey. It’s okay.”

She sniffed, then silently cursed her traitorous nose.

“I was kind of thinking the same thing,” he continued, “about it not being fair… fair to you. I knew what I was asking for – well, after you fixed my skull and I could think straight again – but I’m sorry for putting you in such a hard position.”

 _This was it._ Of course Adrien was so kind he’d say _it’s not you, it’s me_ and actually believe it.

“But,” his voice dropped to a murmur, “I’m okay with it if you are. Everyone has secrets. This is just a little bit more… dramatic than most.”

Marinette jerked her head up from its resting place on her knees. _He’s…_ His face was pale and determined.

“I didn’t expect you to tell me who you were. You could be… you could go to my school, be anyone. You could even be Mayor Bourgeois.” Marinette let out a soggy giggle. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I don’t need to know who you are to enjoy, uh, this.”

“Are you… are you sure, Adrien?”

“Completely,” he replied with a grin, before letting his smile fade into a more serious expression. “For a long time I believed what people told me. That I could only have one favorite color, be attracted to one gender, love one person, have one life. But none of that is true.”

 

“You’re Ladybug. You’re also someone else. And if I had the pleasure of knowing that other person, even if I didn’t _know_ that I knew her, I’d consider myself a very lucky guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _meant_ to get to the next couple this chapter, but Adrien talks too much.   
> ~~the children are too pure someone kill me because I can't handle it~~

**Author's Note:**

> "How do I get this story started?" the author asked themself, "I know, I'll give Adrien a concussion."


End file.
